Day 3: Never Let Me Go
by OzzylovestheScottie
Summary: OTP Christmas Challenge: Day 3 - Cuddling on the sofa with tea After their adventure ends in tragedy, the Doctor comforts Clara. (This turned out a lot more angsty than I had originally intended)


There is a room in the TARDIS that the Doctor made especially for Clara. It was a decent sized room, with a large, antique fireplace that held a roaring fire. The large mantle had bright blue and silver tinsel draped across it, Christmas cards scattered along the top. In front of the fire was a large sofa, decked with large fluffy cushion and thick woollen blankets. The cushions were so big and cosy that there had been a few times where Clara had sank into the warmth that you could hardly see her, burrowed into the warmth. And whenever she had marking to catch up on, she'd leave the Doctor to his own devices and curl up with a large cup of tea and a stack of exam papers.

She loved this room, everything about it was so warm and cosy; the colours, the fabrics, the dim light form the raging fire. Sometimes she felt more at home in here than she did in her own apartment, often falling asleep with her pen still in her hand. And every time, the Doctor would dig her out of her cushion cocoon and carry her to bed. He never mentioned it the next morning but there would always be a pink dusting on the tips of his ears when she grinned at him in thanks.

This time however, the stack of exam papers lay untouched in the corner of the room, her pen resting on the table. Clara sat in the middle of the cushions curled up into herself with her knees pressed against her chest, tears burn in her eyes but she refused to let them fall, she didn't deserve it, to cry over something that was her fault. This time she wished for the cushions to swallow her completely, away from the painful hole that was slowly ripping into her chest. Their last adventure had started out the same way they always did. They burst out of the TARDIS doors, ready for the rush of excitement new worlds always brought. It was a drug, an addiction she'd never could or want to get rid of. But like all addictions, it had its consequences, a price to pay to bring everything back into reality. This time, the price came in the form of a small boy with dark hair, bright blue eyes and an innocent, trusting smile. He'd lost his parents in the midst an explosion that had caused panic throughout the giant galactic city they were visiting. Clara had offered him her hand and had promised him that she would get him home safe. The trust that had sparkled in his tearful eyes made her heart tighten in her chest. If she had paid more attention to her surroundings she would have noticed the area she dragged him to crumble under their weight. One minute he was squeezing her hand with his small grubby fingers for reassurance, then the next he was gone, ripped from her grasp as the stone beneath their feet crumbled away. His terrified screams still echoed in her ears. She could feel the dull ache of the bruises forming on her arm from the Doctor grabbing hold of her before she fell into the dark cavern below. In all the panic she hadn't even had the time to ask his name, and that was the part that hurt the most. With no name, she couldn't even find his parents to tell them that their son wasn't coming home.

 _So much for a happy Christmas._

How many Christmases had they spent trying to put their tattered hearts back together? She lost Danny last year; she lost her Doctor for a while the year before that. There were Christmases with the Doctor she couldn't remember that still seemed to haunt him. But this year she had promised herself things would be different, that they would look after each other and have a happy Christmas. That hadn't lasted very long.

Cool fingers brushed against her arm, startling out of her thoughts. The Doctor sat down gently next to her, his expression was soft as they took in her features. She must have looked a state, make up smudged across her face, dirt across her nose and cheeks, a few scrapes across her brow from falling debris. She scrubbed at her face with the sleeve of her jumper, dropping her gaze to the fire. She couldn't look at the concern and pity in the Doctor's eyes. She didn't deserve it. Part of her wanted to laugh at the irony of the situation. All those times she had gotten angry at the Doctor for the blame he constantly thrust upon himself for thing that were out of his control, and yet here she was slipping under that same dark blanket of shame.

"It wasn't your fault," he whispered softly, holding out a freshly made cup of tea.

She stared at it with distain. Tea had always soothed her, she loved the way the rich warmth travelled through her body and calmed her senses as she inhaled the fresh scent when she took a sip. Now, she didn't think she could stomach it.

"Clara," he whispered, his voice strained, the pain seeping into his tone shot a slither of ice through her heart. "Please."

Reluctantly she lifted a shaky hand to take the mug from him, still keeping her gaze low, away from his. He had to know that she would do anything he asked, believe anything he said when he looked at her like he was now. If she looked at him now she would believe him when he said it wasn't her fault. But she didn't want that, not yet.

She took a large gulp of tea, wincing as the hot liquid scorched down her throat. Her breathing hitched as her stomach churned. She shuddered and placed the on the coffee table in front of her.

They sat there in silence; the only noise was fire quietly crackling away. The Doctor sat there in torment, his hearts breaking at the sight of his companion so grief stricken. He of all people knew what guilt could do to a person; how it could drive them mad. He couldn't bear to see her tear herself apart, not over something that wasn't her fault. He briefly wondered if this was how she felt when he fell into his swirling pit of self-hatred. Had he put her through this pain? _What can I do?_ He wanted to beg, _please, what can I do to help you?_

As if she could hear his inner torment, she shifted in her seat to turn her body towards him, even if she still couldn't look at him.

"I know it's a lot to ask," she croaked, her voice barely a whisper. "But could you just… hold me?"

She finally raised her gaze to his, her wide eyes finally broke their barriers and tears began streaming down her cheeks. His hearts burst in his chest. How could he ever say no to her?

A small sad smile slipped onto his lips as he held his arms open to her. She wasted no time in launching herself into his lap as she flung her arms around his waist and squeezed tightly, as though he were the only thing keeping her grounded. A heart wrenching sob finally burst its way past her lips and once it was released it was hard to stop. She trembled in his arms as the harsh sobs wracked through her body.

The Doctor rested his cheek against her hair, cradled her tightly against his body. He could feel her tears seep through his shirt, sticking it to his skin but he didn't care. She could snot all over him for as long as she liked, he refused to let her go.

"Oh Clara, my Clara," He soothed; making gentle shushing sounds as his raked his fingers through her hair and swiped softly against her cheek.

They stayed wrapped around each other, clinging for dear life for what seemed like hours. Clara's sobs slowly began to ebb away, her breath finally catching up with her with a few hiccups escaping. As the last of her tears trickled lightly down her now puffy cheeks, the last of her energy floated away with them. Her bones slowly turned to jelly as she melted into the Doctor's warm embrace, her eyes slowly drooping closed.

It still hurt, but as she drifted to sleep in her Doctor's arms, that gaping hole in her chest slowly began to stitch back together. In that moment , she knew it would somehow be alright.


End file.
